Even the best of people can build their own abandonment.
Friends are those who turn your chin away from the window
And lead you through the door before the bulldozers come.

Smelling yellow leaves in late October is meaningless
Without someone by your side, crunching frost underfoot,
Holding your hand throughout a cool and cloudless autumn.

Trust the fingertip of light as it touches your darkest despair.
There’s a soul inside; I wonder if yours wants to extend
An arm into the waterfall and peek outside its cave.